Click.
Clack.
Each step he takes
with a cane in both hands
to steady his gait.
He can hardly see.
Doesn’t hear too well.
Yet several times a day
he’s determined to go.
Clicking and clacking
on his measured pilgrimage.
No matter where
but curious
where the old man heads.
Can’t help but admire
that he just goes.
Click.
Clack.
Determined and slow.
Circling the piazza,
he rests at the cafe,
where he sits with his friends
for much of the day.
And then
Click.
Clack.
he shuffles to his door.
But a couple hours later
Click.
Clack.
He totters off once more.
Like this:
Like Loading...
Author: Anne Celano Frohna
I have been writing for as long as I could hold a pencil in hand and would not feel complete without it.
And I actually made a meager living at it (and as an editor) for 25 years.
I worked for newspapers and magazines, in graphic arts and advertising, and wrote several local history books.
But I have also taught English in Japan, been a Nanny in Italy, worked in and for museums, was an Airbnb Superhost for four years, as well as an Etsy shop owner where I sold vintage items I found over the years of thrift and yard sales.
After moving to Arizona with my family in 2010, I completed a series of different writing projects, including two books of creative non-fiction:
Just West of the Midwest: a comedy
(Based on journals I kept during my two years as an English teacher in rural Japan.)
Within Close Range: short stories of an American Childhood
(Short stories and poems about growing up as the middle of five children in suburban Chicago.)
I've also written children's stories and continue to write short fiction, but have recently found my voice in poetry.
This blog, however, is where my greatest passion comes alive.
I am also a mother of two wonderful girls, Eva (23) and Sophia (21) and wife to one wonderful husband, Kurt.
View all posts by Anne Celano Frohna
Dog-eared Stories 